on aquariums and besties
by Bandita-Dieci
Summary: Dana takes her to the aquarium, and for a moment she feels like a child again - not the pain in her throat, but the sort of innocent excitement that she would have had if she'd been normal. It's the same sort of pride - Dana finding the jellyfish - and Jessica, on an impulse, steps forward, remembering, almost. "These," she murmurs, breath fogging the glass, "are real."


Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Jessica. She was born to two parents who should have loved her, the youngest of a trio of little girls who were all used as a way for their parents to make an extra amount of cash.

One day, the eldest of them - Betty - ran away to her grandmother's house, where she told what could only be lies. The police investigated, but nothing came up. Their parents grew careful at hiding their marks. Everything continued as it had.

But the grandmother listened to Betty and began to unravel what was happening to her grandchildren. Although the police might not listen to a young girl, they listened to the grandmother and began to pull threads from various sources until, finally, they were prepared to make a bust.

One of the sources told Jessica's parents. The mother took care of her sisters' bodies while the other poured bleach down his youngest daughter's throat. When the police arrived, she was still alive - but barely. The parents were thrown into jail and Jessica, the last of the siblings, was taken in by her grandmother, who meant to raise the girl as her own.

But Jessica was young, and the young do not always deal with trauma well.

* * *

"Thank you for meeting us today."

Jessica doesn't listen but tightens her hold on her grandmother's hand, eyes wide in the open blue space.

"It wasn't a problem."

The other voice is gruff, and Jessica looks up at the tall man, startled. He tries to smile at her, but she _thinks_ and it's another smile she sees and hands at her throat, and she hides behind her grandmother's legs, dropping her hand and peeking through at the man.

"Jessica, you don't need to be afraid. William's a _friend_."

Jessica does not know the word, and she stops paying attention. It is safer, hiding. She lets her gaze drop, watches through her grandmother's legs, head turning this way and that at the bright glass walls and the lights and the _people_ standing in front of them.

Everything is so big.

Her eyes catch on someone _not_ so big - her mind does not use the word _little_ because she does not think of herself as little - someone maybe like her. She pulls on her grandmother's pants' leg and points at the other girl wordlessly.

"Go on," her grandmother says, stepping out of the way so that Jessica has room to move. The girl looks up at her with wide eyes, and Eleanor pushes her forward a little way. "Go play. I'll be right here."

Jessica swallows once, winces because her throat still aches, and walks over to the other girl. She stands nearby for a moment, not speaking, then turns to her. Beneath the lights, her red hair looks purple, and Jessica touches her own where it has been left down, wonders if it's purple, too.

She wants to speak, but doesn't.

It takes a bit for the other girl to say anything - not because she hasn't noticed, but because she is more concerned with the fish swimming in the tank in front of her. Eventually, she turns and _fully_ notices the other, jumps a little at the closeness.

"Are you Jessica?"

She nods, once.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Hurts." Her voice is still raspy. Grandmother said she didn't _need_ her water bottle anymore, but she carries it slung around one shoulder anyway. She takes the bottle now, pours water down her throat, and it helps, but not much.

"Oh."

Jessica doesn't want to explain - couldn't even if she _did_. Hurts can be too many kinds of pain.

There's silence - not quite awkward, because silence between children is less awkward and this is one more born of small understandings and acceptances because children have a tendency to be better at that - before the other girl sticks out her hand.

"I'm Dana. Nice to meet you."

Jessica takes the other girl's hand in her own, squeezes gently. "Yes." And by this it's understood that she means _it's nice to meet you, too_ but that _yes_ is the least painful way to put it.

Dana looks back at her father, where he is in conversation with Jessica's grandmother, and he catches the look, winks at her. She licks her lips once and turns back to Jessica. "Have you been here before?"

Jessica shakes her head _no_. She hasn't been much of anywhere nice _ever_ , and certainly nowhere this big or blue. Her eyes are still wide when she looks at the fish in their tank, and Dana follows her gaze.

"Do you have a favorite?"

"Jellyfish."

"They aren't in this tank, but I know where to find them."

Dana glances to her father again and bites her lower lip. Then she takes Jessica's hand again, pulls her in the way children sometimes do when they're both excited and nervous. "Come with me."

Jessica lets herself be pulled, eyes wandering over to where her grandmother is watching. She won't be lost. She's safe. So she squeezes Dana's hand again and follows, keeping with her pace until they are in front of the tank.

"Here. Told you I could find them."

The blue lights are now interspersed with something softer, pinker, the glow of the jellyfish themselves in their tank. Jessica thinks her hair must look weird under the pink, but then she is drawn in by the jellies themselves. Her mouth drops open - and her throat _twinges_ at the sudden stretch. She winces, pulls up her bottle, pours more water. A little better, but not much.

On an instinct, she draws nearer to the tank, breath fogging the glass, and reaches out a hand-

"They sting you if you touch them."

" 'sok." Jessica lets her hand rest on the cool glass and watches as one of the jellyfish comes closer to her. They can't hurt too much. She watches them for a moment, before saying, "Could jump across the top. Like a game."

"I don't think so."

Jessica looks back, expecting the other girl's brows to be furrowed, but instead seeing a much more exasperated expression. She tilts her head to the side, questioning, and the other comes forward, lays her finger on the glass - _no tapping_ because that scares the inhabitants.

"We're too big." Dana points to the size of the tops then glances down to their tiny feet. "We'd pop them, and they'd sting us."

"If we were smaller?"

"We're not."

Jessica nods again, once, pours more water down her throat. She's not even really _drinking_ , is still afraid to really swallow anything, but if there's too much, it forces down. The ice helps. She glances back - away - and catches sight of her grandmother. The older woman notices, makes a _shooing_ , _go on_ gesture, and Jessica turns back.

She looks at the jellyfish and thinks they wouldn't really hurt her.

She'd have to be human for that.

* * *

It's while seeing the sharks that it becomes more apparent - Jessica hadn't thought there'd be _sharks_ here, and she doesn't stand as close as the other girl, eyes scanning the creatures until one seems something like familiar. Then she half sprints up, full against the glass, head turned just so, and she waves at the shark as it swims by.

"That's Bruce!"

Dana follows the other's glance, looks at the placard on the wall. "How do you know?" The question careful - not excited as another child might be, needing some sort of explanation.

"I know him." Jessica forgets the rasping in her voice, and in her excitement, it sounds strained. "From _Nemo_. The others are all scared of him."

A pause and Dana looks down, back, at her father, then to her hands. "That's not real."

"Is so."

"That's a cartoon. They're not real."

" _I'm_ real."

"You're not a cartoon."

"Am so."

Dana blinks once. She turns back to the grown-ups for some sort of help, but they're talking, not listening. Her eyes focus on the other girl, the crazy one. "Prove it."

" 'm alive."

"So am I."

"Yeah, but you haven't lived through stuff only Toons do." Her throat aches, and she pours more water. It doesn't help, so she tries more. This is important. She has to explain this right. "Toons get hit and keep coming back. They drink fire and don't die. No matter how much you hurt them. So. I'm not dead. I gotta be a Toon."

"I don't think that's how that works."

Jessica is flustered. She tries to take another gulp of water, to try and explain _better_ , but her bottle is empty. It hurts to speak.

Dana takes her hand again, pulls gently. "C'mon."

They pass a water fountain, and Dana stops. Jessica takes the opportunity to drop hands, to fill her bottle, to try and cool her throat. Nothing is helping. When she returns, she can't help but ask, "Where-?" She cannot finish the sentence.

"Trust me."

The phrase scares her, but Jessica nods once.

* * *

They come to a stop in front of the jellyfish again, and Jessica looks to Dana, blinking, confused. Dana takes the hand in hers and presses it to the glass. "These are real."

"So 'm I."

"No."

"No?"

Dana shakes her head once - _that isn't what I meant_ \- and starts again. "Look."

Jessica follows her gaze, looks, sees nothing.

"Toons are flat." Dana presses her lips together, struggling to find words to fit what she knows to be true. "The jellyfish are real."

"They're like Bruce. _He's_ not flat."

"Is. Skin's all flat. You can't feel him." Trying, trying. "A real shark has rougher skin."

"So?"

That exasperated look again - she'll perfect it when she's older - and she tries again, takes Jessica's hand in her own. "Look." She turns her own hand over in Jessica's, has the other run fingers along her palm. "It's rough." A pause on one patch of skin. "Dad says they're callouses. Like blisters, only they make you stronger."

" _So?_ "

"They're real. Toons can't get them."

Jessica nods once, accepting this, because she cannot think of a Toon with callouses.

"You've got one, too."

"No." Immediate denial. Jessica knows every inch of herself - she's been told by her older sisters to keep track of everything, document it, and even now she's been keeping track of all the changes, even if there's no longer any reason for it. "Don't."

"Do." Dana tries to take Jessica's hand in her own again, but Jessica flinches away. Now her brow _does_ furrow, lips pressed tight together. "From your bottle. There is one. _I felt it._ "

Jessica's eyes widen - that crippling sense of fear - and she begins to raise her hand to check.

There's a ding, and a voice familiar to Jessica overhead: _The Marine Life Institute is closing in fifteen minutes. Please finish up your visit and start heading to the exits._

Dana hears nothing, follows Jessica's glance up, _sees_ nothing. "What?"

"Sigourney Weaver." She winces, takes the water bottle, tries to pour more water down her throat. It's hot; the ice is long gone. "I've got to go." She scampers away to where her grandmother is with the other man and looks up at the woman, heart tight. "Scared."

"Do we need to leave?"

Jessica nods once, turns back to where Dana is staring at her, then back, nodding again, rapidly.

Her grandmother picks her up in her arms - winces at the pain in her lower back - and Jessica hides her face in the crook of her neck. Eleanor smiles at her friend. "I'm sorry, William. My Jess is a little-"

"Don't apologize. I've seen men fare far worse." He bends down, pats Jessica on the head, and she flinches. His eyes meet Eleanor's. "She'll do fine."

"Maybe." Eleanor turns to look at the girl still standing in front of the jellyfish tank, watching them but not moving, her lips pressed tight together, brows furrowed. "Dana seems like a good kid."

"She is."

Jessica whimpers, curls closer.

"Yes, yes, I know." Eleanor tries to smile. "Maybe we should do this again sometime. It was nice catching up with you."

It is adult talk, and Jessica stops listening. She turns to face the other girl again, blinks once. Their eyes meet, and she can almost see the frustration hovering around her - something black and red, like her dad was. See? Only Toons could see emotions like colors like that.

She is too scared of the other's anger to stick her tongue out at her, but the impulse is there.

When her grandmother turns to leave, Dana waves at her. Jessica doesn't understand this. Black and red does not mean _waving_ or _nice_. She thinks for a moment, then starts to check her hand again.

 _The same dinging, the same voice overhead, and she is glad she is leaving, they really should go._

* * *

She does not remember any of this when they meet again - has nothing to connect the girl from her childhood to the federal agent who sometimes drinks with her even though she knows she makes her nothing but uncomfortable, has even less to connect her with the only person she will ever consider a true friend, cannot tie the confusing blacks and reds with the golds and cerulean that she becomes.

Dana takes her to the aquarium, and for a moment she feels like a child again - not the pain in her throat, but the sort of innocent excitement that she would have had if she'd been normal. It's the same sort of pride - Dana finding the jellyfish - and Jessica, on an impulse, steps forward, remembering, almost.

"These," she murmurs, breath fogging the glass, "are real."

She removes one hand from the glass to look, nail catching on the callous there.


End file.
